


Deadbeat Magnus

by Cyrus_The_Virus



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack Treated Seriously, Elias Bouchard Being a Bastard, Fix-It of Sorts, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, It/Its Pronouns For Michael | The Distortion (The Magnus Archives), Nonbinary Michael | The Distortion (The Magnus Archives), Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Beholding Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), The Stranger Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), avatar politics, because its fun, entity multiclassing, it diverges right after the s1 finale, sasha dies, sorry - Freeform, what if avatars were more communal with each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28804128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyrus_The_Virus/pseuds/Cyrus_The_Virus
Summary: Turns out avatars have a sort of CPS but for new avatars going on.It also turns out that Elias, as Jon's avatar 'parent', is a deadbeat and unfit to help him be a proper avatar.Jon finds this out when Simon Fairchild breaks down Elias' door and Breekon and Hope take him to a safe house.Features: found family, Elias Bouchard being a bastard, NotSasha, worldbuilding, etc etc
Relationships: Not-Them Sasha James & Other(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Simon Fairchild & Jonah Magnus
Comments: 98
Kudos: 211





	1. Chapter 1

Sasha likes being helpful. It’s part of her character. Sasha James, archival assistant, is helpful.

She likes being helpful. Which is why she’s currently checking on Jon. He’s younger than her and he’s injured too, so she tries to be especially helpful.

She’s new to this whole ‘working in The Eye’s Temple’ thing but it’s not bad. The Watcher at the top of the building leaves her be and Jon isn’t old enough to find her out yet. The ambiance of the Temple leaves her be for the most part. The entities don’t normally target children. 

There is an upside to working in a temple that is her antithesis, she’s gotten more curious. Strangers don’t normally seek out many answers, but it just feels  _ right _ for her to do so. 

Sasha is asking questions that the Circus can’t answer, leaving her to turn to the Temple. She obviously can’t ask any of the humans those questions, as they’re humans, nor can she ask Jon, as he’s practically an infant. Most of her answers are found through independent study of the Temple’s documents.

Sasha’s becoming a Strange Eye, and she finds that she doesn’t quite care. The Stranger is nice, it provides her a blanket of anonymity that she loves so. The Eye is new, it gives her answers and feeds her curiosity, and dotes on her like a parent like Breekon and Hope did when she was still New.

Multi-entity avatars and aspects, for Sasha never was human and could not be considered an avatar, aren’t unheard of. They’re just less common than single-entity avatars and aspects. 

Back to the topic at hand, Sasha pokes her head into Jon’s office, knocking lightly on the doorframe.

“Jon? You good in here? It’s been a few hours and you haven’t taken a break.”

Jon looks up from whatever he’s scribbling on and gives her an inscrutable stare.

“I’m fine, Sasha. I took a break a few minutes ago.”

She can tell that’s a lie, so she gives him a glower.

“Come on, Jon! You and I both know that’s a lie. Come on, out of here now. You’re coming with me for lunch,” she chirps, waving her hands at him as she approaches his desk.

He squawks at her and tries to stay in his chair but she firmly latches onto his upper arms and hauls him out of the damned thing.

“Sasha!? This is highly unprofessional!” 

She rolls her eyes and places him on the ground a few feet from his desk.

“Unprofessional is never talking to your coworkers. Stand up straight, man. Stop being a grump, you need to eat regularly to heal faster.”

Jon pouts but nonetheless walks out of his office. Sasha smiles at him when he turns back to her to raise an eyebrow.

She grabs his hand, not noticing his flinch, and pulls him out of the Temple and up the stairs to the ground floor. 

“Where are we going exactly?” Jon asks, a bit miserably.

“There’s a nice cafe nearby that has nice sandwiches! Unless you’d like to go somewhere else?”

Jon stares at her, looking for something.

“...No, the cafe is fine.”

Sasha smiles at him and lets go of his wrist, assured he won’t run now that they’ve reached the lobby.

Before she can turn her head back to the front, she bumps into someone. Letting out an ‘oomph’ she starts to fall backward onto Jon who tries his best to push her up and not crush him.

“Goodness! Are you okay, child?” the voice of an elderly man asks. 

A hand grabs onto her arm and pulls her forward enough to allow Jon to escape from behind her. 

“Yes, I’m-I’m quite fine. Thank you for helping me stay balanced and sorry for bumping into you, I wasn’t paying much attention,” she says hurriedly. She knows the man she practically ran into. How could she not? Child avatars and aspects always end up meeting him when they’re young.

“Nonsense! It’s fine, dear! I think it’s best you run along now. Try not to get into much trouble, Stranger!” Simon Fairchild says, tipping his hat with a cane she hadn’t noticed until then, as he smiles at her.

Sasha nods at him and grabs Jon’s wrist again, this time noticing his flinch. 

“Have a good day, sir! Let’s go, Jon.”

She pulls Jon further into the lobby before letting go of his wrist.

“Did you know him, Sasha? That old man?” Jon asks.

Sasha glances at him, confused.

“You mean you haven’t met him yet? But- Actually, that makes sense. You’re not that old yet. That was Simon Fairchild.”

Jon looks startled but quickly schools his features.

The rest of the way to the cafe is spent in silence. 

-

Sasha enters the Circus and feels herself loosen in her skin. It’s nice being near Tim and Martin without their fear but there’s a certain feeling to letting her form shift and bend. Of course, she could always do this near Jon, but he’s far too young, only a few weeks old at most, to gracefully take her appearance.

“Evening, girlie,” Breekon shouts, Hope standing everpresent at his side.

“Have a good day?” Hope asks.

Sasha smiles at them and walks over. Breekon places a hand on her head and Hope smiles at her.

“It was good! I bumped into Simon Fairchild today but he wasn’t mad. I took Jon to that cafe you two like for lunch too! He’s healing nicely. Y’know, he didn’t even know who Mr. Fairchild was! Sure, he’s only a few weeks old but still!” she says to them.

“That’s not that bad-”

“-Fairchild don’t normally visit infants-”

“-No, Fairchild mostly visits toddlers-”

“-Yeah, he probably won’t see your Jon for a few years yet.”

Sasha beams up at them.

“Come on, girlie-”

“-Nikola wants us rehearsing soon.”

She nods and follows after them towards the dressing rooms.


	2. Chapter 2

Sasha tries not to worry about Jon. He’s young, yeah, but he’s still an adult in human terms. Yet she doesn’t like the way the Watcher interacts with his child avatar. 

Child avatars are such a bizarre concept sometimes. It confuses her a bit, but she’s sure that’s just because she’s not even a teenager in Stranger terms.

Very rarely do avatars spring into existence without  _ something _ or  _ someone _ helping them along that path, either through trauma or as a haven. Sasha is neither, as she was never human and cannot be tied to the avatar title. 

Jon became an avatar for a reason, yet Sasha thinks she doesn’t want to know that reason. Not all ‘parent’ avatars and aspects are kind to their ‘child’ avatars and aspects. Sasha is lucky that the Circus is kind to its children. She knows The Desolation and The Flesh are not so kind.

Elias is Jon’s ‘parent’ avatar. This fact causes Sasha to bristle since Jon is so clearly an avatar as a result of The Corruption. What would cause a parent avatar to leave a Mark so different from their patron on their child avatar? Sasha does not like to consider the answers. 

-

The smell of The Distortion permeates Jon’s office when Sasha goes in to bring him to lunch again. And blood. Lots of blood.

“Jon? Everything okay?”

Jon looks up from his hunched over position at his desk, pain clear as day on his face.

“Jon?!”

She doesn’t wait for him to answer and rushes to his side. Once there, she can see him clamping a hand to his side where a dark red stain grows.

“Why are you bleeding?!”

Jon grimaces and avoids looking at her.

“It was Micheal. He came in right after you left and-and  _ stabbed _ me for being  _ rude?! _ Of all things.”

Sasha does not like this. The Distortion is old. Far too old to be targeting an infant like Jon. If The Distortion is targeting child avatars then it will also target child aspects.

“That’s not good. Come on, I think you need stitches. I’ll call you an ambulance.”

She helps Jon to his feet, letting him lean his concerningly small weight against her side.

“Not to sound rude or anything, I know this will sound rude but trust me, it’s not. But are you sure it called itself Michael? Not just The Distortion?” she asks him as they reach the doorway to his office.

If The Distortion was under the influence of its human sacrifice then that bodes well for the children of the entities. If not, then well, she’ll have to run to the Circus with Jon and never look back. 

“No-no, I’m quite sure he called himself Micheal.”

Relief surges through her. Before she remembers that Michael has a vendetta against the Archivist position and that this is practically a declaration of war.

"You said you were rude? How so?"

Jon winces as she helps him up the first step.

"I wanted to know what he did to that poor woman, Helen Richardson was her name. I also wanted to know what he was, what his intentions were. I guess I may have come across as rude to him."

Sasha scoffs, levering him up the next step.

"A load of bullshit. Those are reasonable questions to ask the human sacrifice that The Distortion puppets," she blurts without thinking.

Jon sputters and stares at her.

"How do you know all this, Sasha?! Human sacrifice?! What?!"

Sasha blinks at him before her mind clicks with Original Sasha’s memories.

"He told me, of course. We have coffee together on Tuesdays. Not the best conversationalist, but it does have astounding opinions on cement of all things!"

At that, Jon actually huffs a tiny laugh. She beams at him and gently hauls him onto the first landing for a small break.

"This is taking too long. Do you mind if I call a few friends of mine? They're stronger than I am and won't charge you for an ambulance ride."

She just hopes he doesn't ask about how she knows Breekon and Hope.

"Yeah… Sure… I'm just gonna… close my eyes a bit…" Jon wearily says, slumping against the wall.

Wow, she fucked up. She forgot to keep an eye on his wound. Fuck.

Shakily, she pulls out her phone and clicks Breekon and Hope’s contact. They pick up after the third ring.

“‘Ello, girlie-”

“-Need something?”

“Yeah, act-actually. I need you guys to come-to come to the institute. The Distortion stabbed Jon.”

The pair is silent for a second before the squealing of tires and the thud of The Coffin moving comes through the speakers.

“Hold tight, girlie-”

“-We’re on our way.”

Sasha breathes a shaky laugh.

“Thanks, you two. I’ll-I’ll see you soon.”

She turns to Jon and feels her face twist in worry.

-

Sasha paces in the small hospital room. In the bed is Jon, still unconscious. Breekon and Hope are sat in the chairs by the windows and just watching her.

"Calm down, girlie-"

"-It won't help your Jon-"

"-If you wear a hole-"

"-In the floor, no it won't."

Sasha stops her pacing, takes a deep breath, and nods.

"You’re-you're right. It won't. I'm just really worried. He’s so  _ young _ and The Distortion knows that. It scares me a little," she admits, holding herself slightly.

Breekon and Hope nod in understanding.

"Yeah, bit unusual of Ol' Doorways-"

"-To target infants, that it is."

Sasha nods again and sits down in an empty chair. She sits there ignoring the strings tightening around her throat as Jon sleeps on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Micheal is probably one of my favorite characters in the series and I like it when he's all sympathetic and such, but I know he has a personal vendetta against the Archivist position and I am going to m i l k that for all it's worth, so yea rip Jon he gets stabbed and (Not)Sasha freaks out about it since she, y'know, understands just how bad and out of the norm that is and just how worrying it is for a young being like her
> 
> also some hints (Not)Sasha is picking up of Jonahlias Magchard's shitty 'parenting' of Jon
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Have a good day/night/evening/morning!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha meets a Spire.

Sasha is exploring the tunnels. The table still binds her and the strings are pulling tighter and tighter as she spends longer amounts of time away from it. 

She is lucky, she supposes. Dekker was smart to bind her, when she was a he and a Carl. But he was stupid enough to leave her alive. Or well, as alive as a Stranger can be.

She is happy to be alive, sure, but it is not much of a life when the strings keep her bound.

The tunnels are nice. The Dark provides shelter from prying Eyes, satisfying her need for anonymity. They even lessen the pull of the strings.

Footsteps up ahead draw her attention. It better not be that damned old man with the shitty beard again. Last time he tried to crush her.

Static overlays the tunnels and Sasha feels her eyes widen. Fears no. Fuck.

She tries to move but the fear of her likely impending doom has her rooted to the spot. 

The Distortion enters her vision, footsteps echoing wildly around it. The smile it gives her is enough to make whatever counts as her blood go cold.

It laughs, filling her body with pins and needles and waves raking across her brain.

“So nice to finally meet the little Strange Eye! You’ve been such entertainment, dear,” it says, words twisting and curling through the air in golden letters.

Sasha tries to say something, anything, but The Distortion has its too-long-too sharp fingers digging into her cheeks and jaw when she starts to open her mouth. It tuts at her.

“None of that now, dear. You may be a Stranger alongside an Eye but I do not want your tongue to get loose.”

Sasha fearfully locks eyes with the abomination of madness. Nothing. Nothing comforting, nothing dangerous, just a kaleidoscope of colors held in a human's soft face.

"I wouldn't worry, Strange Eye. The Spiral and The Stranger are two powers that overlap quite a bit. You needn't fear me."

It lets its fingers shift from keeping her mouth shut to just resting across her cheek. Small vibrations take over that side of her face, strongest where it touches her.

Her mind drifts to Jon in his office, stiffly hunched over his desk from the bandages and gauze on his side.

"Why- How can I trust you? You stabbed an  _ infant. _ "

It laughs at her, buzzing through her veins and pumping her heart.

"The Archivist is hardly an  _ infant. _ I'd sooner call an Archivist a monster than an infant," it tells her, chuckling the whole way through.

"Jon  _ is _ an infant! Just because you have some kind of-of-of  _ vendetta _ against the Archivist position doesn't mean you can go around stabbing infants who aren't even full avatars yet! Not to mention said infant being an avatar because of The Corruption but having an Eye as a parent! Like I can't be the only one suspicious of this!? I'm twelve years old, Doorways, and even I can see something is  _ wrong, _ " Sasha finishes, panting heavily. She glares defiantly up at the ancient aspect of The Spiral, daring it to continue its monologue.

The Distortion stares at her, something crooked in its eyes. The fingers on her cheek move once again, this time to the crown of her skull. 

Sasha’s eyes widen right before The Distortion sinks its fingertips into her hair and  _ pulls. _

She's lifted into the air, tears slipping from her eyes as the skin on the top of her head strains.

"You are a most curious creature, dear," it purrs.

She's set down on the ground after a few more seconds. The fingers leave her skin, allowing her mind to sluggishly reboot. 

She collapses backward and just lays there on the dirty tunnel floors, panting loud enough to be heard over the rush of not-blood in her ears. 

The Distortion kneels down next to her head, its hair flowing out to curtain its face and pooling on hers. Static and fizzing fill her vision as her skin starts itching.

Idly, she notes the Throat of Delusion swiping some curly blond strands out of her eyes.

"You… are correct, I suppose. It is worrisome that the Arc-hi-vist has He Who Watches as a parent. And that the Archivist is  _ the Archivist _ because of The Corruption's attack on the Archives. The same attack that allowed you to steal the life of Sasha James. Curious, that the Circus would let a child as young as you are into the Temple of its antithesis."

Sasha- NotSasha?  _ Sasha _ blearily stares at it, hardly registering the words said. The strings of the table pull taught, latching onto her limbs until her hands are off-white.

"You and I both know identity is fluid for beings like us. Isn't that right,  _ Micheal, _ " she whispers, venom lacing the name.

The Distortion- or is it Michael this time- laughs, a different one. One that flows over her skin like rough sandpaper and leaves stinging patches of red behind.

"Oh, I quite like you, Strange Eye. Or, well, you'd prefer Sasha, wouldn't you? Young Strangers like you tend to be more the original human than a Stranger. Yes, you've a decade more before your mind can distinguish between your identity and your target's." 

Sasha opens her mouth to reply but the strings tighten around her throat and  _ choke. _

The Distortion tilts its head at her and smiles. It trails a finger across her trapped throat.

"You look like you need some help, dear. Care to take me up on the offer?"

Sasha does her best to nod. Before she can process anything The Distortion could say, she's plunged through a Door and she stumbles. 

The Distortion chuckles next to her, leaving stains of lavender and cyan across her skin.

"Right this way, Strange Eye. I will bring you to your table."

Sasha travels the Hallways in a blur, only really registering things once she's deposited on top of the table. 

"Let’s chat again, Young Stranger!" The Distortion calls, leaving through its door.

God, does she hate The Spiral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love the dichotomy of how micheal and notsasha see the conversation they just had
> 
> micheal thinks it was a very nice discussion and that he and notsasha are now pseudo friends
> 
> notsasha on the other hand hates him and never wants to see him again
> 
> thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha and Jon get interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would like to preface this chapter by saying I only know daisy from her s3 personality

Sasha is helping Jon with some filing when the static of The Distortion echoes through the stacks.

“Do you hear that?” she asks, nudging Jon with an elbow.

He looks up from his box of fake statements. She watches his ears prick up as he listens. 

“No, I don’t. Why?”

Sasha just stares at him as the static gets louder.

“What?! I have tinnitus!” he says, affronted. 

A warbling bark of laughter comes from around the corner of the shelf. Jon and Sasha turn towards it in shock.

The Distortion steps out from its hiding place, smile drifting across its head and rotated at a right angle.

“I knew you were stupid, Arc-hi-vist, but this is a new low!”

Jon goes red from embarrassment. Sasha scowls at the Royality of Lies.

“Hey! You be quiet!” 

The Distortion- no, Micheal is the one they’re seeing- Michael drifts its eyes in her direction and his smile grows wider.

“Why would I do that, dear?”

Sasha pulls Jon behind her and dares to look into the kaleidoscope of unreality that Micheal calls eyes.

“Jon is not your target and you know it!”

Michael takes a step closer to the pair. Behind her, Jon grabs onto her arms and tries to drag her back. She ignores him and stands her ground, furiously staring down the Throat of Delusion.

“And  _ who _ might my target be, Strange Eye?”

Here, she falters.

“I- Not-not Jon, that’s for sure! He’s young, don’t fault him for that. You know better, right,  _ Micheal? _ ”

Here, Michael falters.

His face twists into a snarl. Its fingers curling into corkscrews. She’s hit a nerve.

The static grows louder, the scratch of nails on chalkboard sounds through the room. Micheal’s hair expands and writhes in impossible directions. 

“You forget yourself, Strange Eye.”

Sasha matches his snarl with her own.

“No,  _ you _ forget yourself,  _ Spire! _ These are not  _ your _ Archives. You are no Eye! I ask you leave, before the Watcher comes to  _ escort _ you himself,” she hisses through clenched teeth, eyes narrowed on Michael with deadly focus.

Micheal growls but slinks back a few feet. He knows this is not its Temple and that he is not welcome.

“Don’t get  _ cocky, _ Strange Eye,” it hisses. 

With that final warning, Michael manifests a door and leaves. 

Sasha slumps forward in relief when the Spire leaves. That could’ve gone  _ very _ bad.

Jon puts a hand on her shoulder, surprising her. She forgot he was there. She gives him a shaky smile and thumbs-up. 

“Sasha, what- what was that?!” Jon asks.

“That-that was Micheal trying a pissing contest in the wrong place.”

"Wh-what? Sasha-" the Archives door opening cuts him off.

That's… odd. The door's normally not loud enough to be heard from the stacks.

"Hello?" a voice calls out, followed by footsteps.

"We'll talk later, okay?" Sasha whispers to Jon, who nods.

She pulls him out of the aisle and is greeted by the two police officers in charge of Robinson’s murder.

"Sorry for the delay! We didn't hear the door while we were filing," Sasha says, quick to not arouse suspicion of the Hunter.

"Oh, it's not a problem. We've only just walked in. We had some follow-up questions for Mr. Sims," Officer Hussain states.

Jon weaves around Sasha to stand in front of her and clears his throat. 

"I'd be happy to answer any questions you had. Please, come this way into my office for some privacy." 

Jon motions his arms in the direction of his office. Officer Hussain brushes past him, Detective Tonner does not.

That single act of the Hunter remaining in the bullpen sets Sasha’s teeth on edge. Still, it won't do for her to compromise her cover, to a Hunter far older and more mature than she is. No, she could never hope to survive a full-on fight to the death.

Noticing she's been standing still and staring at the Hunter for a few minutes too many, she clears her throat.

"Is there anything I could get you while you wait? Tea? Water?"

"No."

Damn. There goes her plan of getting  _ some _ time away from the predatory eyes of the Hunter.

Sasha mentally scoffs and goes back to her desk. The Hunter might not want to sit but she does. 

"You can sit in one of the chairs by the door," she says, knowing the Hunter won't go for such an indefensible spot.

The two exist in silence for a few moments before the Hunter speaks.

"Your boss looks a bit shit, don't he? It's been plenty of time for those bug scars or whatever to have healed, yet he acts like he's been stabbed."

It's not a question but it makes Sasha’s not-blood run cold.

"Don't insult him."

The Hunter scoffs. 

"'S just an observation. Don't see why you're so protective of him. The man's a pompous arsehole. Probably was stupid enough to run his mouth to a mugger."

Sasha tightens her grip on her chair's armrest. 

Perhaps the Hunter can smell the Stranger part of her? The Eye part of her would blend in too much with the ambient smell of the Temple to be picked up, but the Stranger wouldn't blend in.

"What? Not going to defend him? Figures. You scholarly types are all bark and no bite. I bet Sims had that stab and those bug bites coming to him."

Sasha stands roughly, forcing her chair back.

"Shut. Up."

The Hunter smirks at her, a grim thing of too many teeth with too angular tilts.

"You going to make me?"

Sasha breaks her mug on the Hunter's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to call this chapter "the one where NotSasha fights two people that can destroy her in one hour because they insulted Jon"
> 
> notsasha: don't be such a bastard you're younger than me  
> Michael: fuck you
> 
> micheal: don't get cocky notthem  
> notsasha, starting a fight with daisy: I cant hear you over the violence  
> micheal: this is literally what I just said to not do
> 
> i love notsasha shes so fun to write odiuhfods she latched onto the twinks sksksksk love how shes turning out to be a firecracker
> 
> daisy and the distortion both could have absolutely destroyed notsasha yet here she is! fistfighting god! good for her good for her!
> 
> also id like to say that there is a difference in The Distortion and Micheal, its not that apparent in this chapter or the last one but I expect it will play a larger role later
> 
> thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

The Hunter still has that damned smile on her face as she reaches up to the lines gouged into her right cheek. Her fingers come back red. 

The Hunter turns her gaze from her hand to Sasha.

"That wasn't very smart," the Hunter growls.

The white porcelain of the handle rests in Sasha’s hand. There are pieces of white in the Hunter's cheek, and the off-white of bone. 

Sasha stares impassively at the Hunter. She's putting on a brave front, she knows this isn't a fight she can win.

The Hunter lunges at her, arms wrapping around her waist and slamming her to the ground. Sasha yelps and instinctively slams the broken porcelain into the Hunter’s back.

Claws rip into her not-flesh and she bites down hard on the hand pressing her head to the ground. 

Neither of them bleeds red.

The Hunter is stronger than her and already had her pinned. And now the Hunter knows she’s not human.

The Hunter grabs her hair tightly and uses it to slam her head into the hardwood flooring of the bullpen. The hand does not leave, only pressing on her skull with the full weight of the Hunter.

“You’re not human,” the beast holding her down snarls.

Sasha glares at her with her one open eye. 

“Neither are  _ you, _ ” she spits. 

Sasha knows how this will end if she doesn’t escape. 

The Hunter raises a clawed hand. 

Sasha lets her skin loosen and twists her inhuman neck to sink her too many teeth into the Hunter’s shoulder. 

The Hunter yelps and tries to dislodge her. Sasha ignores her heavy blows and reaches a thin, spindly limb over to the discarded mug handle. 

Before Sasha can impale the Hunter on porcelain, the sound of footsteps approaching a door reach the pair’s ears. Quickly, Sasha unhinges her jaw and unhooks her teeth from Detective Tonner’s shoulder. Detective Tonner pulls her claws out of Sasha’s arm and side. 

The door opens to Sasha helping Detective Tonner pick up bloodied porcelain.

Officer Hussain makes a disgusted sounding noise while Jon jumps and yelps at the sight of the blood and the obvious wounds the pair wear.

“Wh-What the hell happened here?!” 

Sasha, spooked, shares a glance with Detective Tonner, who matches her expression. 

“I… tripped?” Sasha says, knowing it sounds blatantly false.

Jon and Officer Hussain share a look. 

“Riiiight,” Jon says. 

Sasha and Detective Tonner share another deer-in-the-headlights look. 

“Truce?” the detective asks.

“Truce,” Sasha nods.

The pair bolt through the Archives door and up the stairs. Officer Hussain and Jon shout in surprise behind them.

-

Sasha split up with Detective Tonner as soon as they were clear of the Institute’s main doors. Yet here they both are, being treated at the same hospital.

At least Sasha won’t be alone with the Hunter for more than a few seconds. Breekon and Hope are in the lobby right now signing paperwork for her discharge. 

Speak of the devil…

Breekon and Hope walk into the hospital room.

“What a sight you are, girlie-”

“-It’s not often we pick up kids from hospitals.”

Sasha gives them a pout.

Breekon reaches for her hair and Hope chuckles.

The Hunter makes a small noise, attracting the attention of the three Strangers.

“I’ve met you two before,” Detective Tonner says, voice quiet and loose.

Breekon and Hope look at each other before turning back to Detective Tonner.

“Maybe so-”

“-We meet lots of folks.”

Detective Tonner continues staring at the Strangers. Sasha and the Strangers ignore her.

“Come on, girlie-”

“-Nikola wants to hear your brawl of century.”

Sasha smiles at them.

“Lead the way then you two!”

The trio leaves a bewildered Hunter behind in the hospital, never glancing back.

She and Jon never did have that talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit thank you for the love for the fic!!! (I meant to say this last chapter notes but forgot soiudhisj) i didn't think this fic would get so much attention, let alone positive
> 
> its funny I had a lot for this chapters notes but I've all forgotten them because I finished writing this chapter last week or the week before 
> 
> uhhhh next chapter: tim! and elias that bastard, I will tell you that next chapter people yelled at me for what I wrote 
> 
> thanks so much for reading!!! <3<3<3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> elias can have a little traumatization of notsasha, as a treat

Sasha went back to the Temple the next day after her fight with the Hunter. Jon tried to talk to her but she just skirted the subject. 

They never ended up having that talk.

-

Sasha walks into the Archives after lunch and Knows something's happened. Nothing becomes clear until Tim emerges from Jon’s office shaken.

She is not as close to Tim as the Original Sasha James but she is still close to him. She has also been ignoring him lately in favor of Jon. 

Can you blame her? Jon’s much younger than her and has practically no guidance and he has The Distortion and a Hunter after his throat.

So when she sees Tim all pale and sweaty after talking with Jon she goes up to him.

"Are you alright?" 

Tim jumps, looking at her with wide, scared eyes.

"Wh-what?"

Sasha frowns at him and puts a hand on his shoulder. She feels him tense slightly.

"Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost? Did Jon say something? I can talk to him for you, give him a right telling off," she offers, trying to redirect Tim’s attention.

Tim laughs shakily, wringing his hands.

“I’m-I’m fine, Sasha. You can go back to your work.”

“Bullshit! What did you and Jon do to each other to get you like this?!”

At that, Tim flinches and looks at her with such scared and wide eyes she goes quiet and still.

“Tim.  _ What did you and Jon say to each other? _ ” she hisses through a grim line.

Tim shakes his head at her and just hunches in on himself further. Sasha’s frown deepens but she doesn’t push it. Humans are fragile and it won’t do to harm one of the Temple’s humans. 

Instead she offers quiet comfort. Tim doesn't need to be alone like this.

-

Sasha is packing her things to go back to the Circus for the night. The others all had left earlier, even Jon. She’s alone in the Temple. 

She’s an easy target.

“Ms. James, I was just looking for you!” Elias Bouchard says from behind her. 

She stiffens and turns around. 

There’s a predatory glint in the Watcher’s eyes.

“Oh! Did you need something, Mr. Bouchard? Jon’s just left but I’m sure I can help you find anything.”

The Watcher smiles at her. It makes her nervous.

“I just thought that we should have a little  _ talk, _ Ms. James. Would you follow me to my office?” 

She nods and follows behind him silently. 

When they arrive at his office, he waves her in and locks the door behind himself.

“Please, have a seat.”

Sasha swallows nervously as she sits in the stiff and uncomfortable chair. He settles into his own throne of disingenuity and doesn’t drop that damned smile.

“You are a hindrance to my plans, Stranger.”

Sasha stares at him.

“I don’t see what you want me to do about it. Your child is the target of a Hunter and The Distortion. Someone has to look out for him!”

The Watcher scoffs.

“Jon is hardly my  _ child. _ He’s the Archivist. You Strangers are always so obtuse.”

Sasha scowls at him but does not rise to the anger boiling under her skin. She would do many things for Jon, including fighting a Hunter and the Throat of Delusion, but this is the Watcher’s territory and she is hardly protected by The Eye or The Stranger here.

“You will leave Jon alone. He has no need for a glorified babysitter. He is not my child and he is not your concern unless you are Marking him for The Stranger.”

Sasha growls at him, feeling the skin around her face loosen.

The Watcher’s eyes glow green, even greener than they were before, as he stands. He places his hands flat on his desk and leans towards her, never breaking eye contact.

“It seems I wasn’t  _ clear enough. _ You are to stop this incessant protectiveness. You  _ will _ stop hindering my plans. You  _ will not _ inform Jon of the entities. You  _ will _ allow Detective Tonner and The Distortion to go after Jon. You are only to bring up your god to Jon if you are Marking him. Am. I. Understood.” 

It is not a question.

Sasha glares at him and goes to stand from the chair. The Watcher’s eyes glow brighter as his face twists into a scowl to reciprocate her own.

“ _ Am. I. Understood. _ ”

Sasha stops halfway out of her chair. She whimpers as the full force of The Eye crashes onto her. 

It hurts! It burns! Please, let it stop! She’ll be good, she promises! She won’t be bad! It hurts! Please!

She’s left panting, crumpled on the ground as the Watcher smugly stands over her.

“I trust you know your place now. You may leave when you have collected your breath.”

She’s crying, she realizes. Her body shakes from aftershocks of being Watched. 

She may be half-Eye but she is just Stranger enough for The Eye to hurt when it’s that focused. At least she was not Known. She does not want to consider the results of that.

-

Sasha does not know where she goes after she leaves that stuffy office of Eyes.

She just knows that the further she goes the less her skin  _ burns _ on her bones.

She doesn’t even notice the static until she is already through the yellow door.

It creaks closed behind her. For some reason, she thinks it sounds… sad.

She walks. For however long she walks, she does not know. 

Knowing is not in her nature. Or, half her nature. It is hard to be a hybrid of two opposites. The Known and the Unknown. The Circus and the Temple.

Static

Stat.ic

Sta.t.ic

"My, you are in a right shape, Strange Eye," The Distortion purrs from over her shoulder. She jumps and nearly falls over.

"...rrr?" Oh that's not right. She was supposed to say Micheal.

She tries to look up but instead just tips forward. She’s saved from bashing her face into the ground by long fingers wrapping around her waist and pulling her up.

“I was expecting you to be a tad more coherent. Alas, you are dead on your feet. I will talk to you after you recover from being Watched. You may have gotten too cocky, Little Hybrid.”

The hand holding her steady is large and leaves static electricity when she breathes in. It’s the only thing keeping her awake.

The Spiral and The Stranger are separate but they are some of the closest of all the entities. Both deal with the unknown, though that is mainly The Stranger’s territory. Both deal with things not being right, or things being just right enough to not get a second glance until you dig deeper. It is not unexpected she finds comfort in The Distortion’s Hallways.

She can only hope she doesn’t end up as The Distortion’s next meal if it doesn’t bring her back to the Circus to recover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> elias can have a little traumatization of notsasha, as a threat
> 
> I want you all to know that elias traumatizing notsasha is an important part of the fic and lays the groundwork for breekon and hope and nikola getting suspicious, you dont just not notice ur kid coming home freshly Watched when she is most certainly not supposed to be Watched to that extent, notsasha may be half eye but she is also half stranger and she is not supposed to be Watched or Known fully and jonah knows this yet he still Watched her with the full might of the eye to make a point
> 
> bastard twink i cant wait for you to get your ass kicked by simon fairchild and breekon and hope
> 
> i will admit that i enjoy hurting notsasha a bit much, after all shes not going to be the pov character forever, and her pov being stripped from the narrative is going to be because of her being in immense pain ;) enjoy that little hint ig sksksksk
> 
> thanks for reading!!!


	7. Chapter 7

The table beckons her closer. Its strings flail in the air, eight of them. Fitting, for a Web artifact. 

The strings fly towards her, latching and tangling on her arms and legs and torso and neck. 

The table lifts itself on eight black spider legs and starts lurching towards her.

She can't move. The strings are holding her in place.

They're such strong things for something as thin as hair. Silvery-white and sharp as a knife.

She's bleeding. The strings are tight and she chokes around the one on her neck.

The table reaches her and she is pulled in.

She's going to miss Tim, and Jon, and Martin. And Martin’s tea. 

Her father did always say to go out with a laugh.

She laughs as the table closes its lid and the crunch of bone echoes.

-

Sasha, the Strange Eye, not the original, shoots up from the cot she's been placed in. 

The Original Sasha…

Cold sweat slicks her hair and sticks her clothes to her skin. Her stolen skin. Or not stolen skin. She can't think straight.

It's been long enough that the Original Sasha’s memories shouldn't bleed over into her dreams and create nonsensical nightmares. Because that's what that was. A nightmare.

The Original Sasha hadn’t even died like that. No, it was her who had killed the Original Sasha, not the table. 

It’s not… unusual… for young Strangers of her type to experience bleed-through. It’s just a bit worrying. Bleed-through shouldn’t happen this late in her development, or at least not to this degree.

She shakes her head and stands up. 

She looks around and realizes two things quickly. One, this is not the Circus. Two, this is not her apartment. Where the hell is she?! Where did The Distortion leave her?!

She takes a step and nearly crashes to the floor. God, she hates this. Being weak. She shouldn’t be feeling so horrible, she’s half-Eye. Yet here she is, barely able to keep her balance. Useless.

The door opens while she’s trying to take another step forward.

“Oh! You’re awake!” Martin says, shock coloring his voice. 

Sasha blearily looks at him.

“Here-” he moves to intercept her before she can fall. “Let me help you. Gosh, I didn’t expect you to be awake so soon! It’s only been three hours since Mr. Knifehands left you on my doormat. He said you’d be out for half a day!”

Martin’s arms wrap around her as she is picked up. He’s stronger than she thought he’d be.

"You’re very light. Not-not that that's a bad thing! That came out rude, I'm sorry!" Martin stammers.

Sasha blinks at him. 

"It's fine, Martin. You're stronger than I expected."

Martin makes a wheezy choking kind of noise, which she ignores. 

The arms around her are very comfortable. Warm. In a way so dissimilar to Breekon and Hope or Nikola. It's nice. 

When was the last time warm arms held her like this? Maybe when she was that mythologist? She barely remembers anything before she was Graham and even less before Carl. Neither Graham nor Carl had many people, no partners or friends.

Well, Graham did have a boyfriend but he had died shortly after the Original Graham did. Oliver Banks was a nice boyfriend in the short time period they'd coexisted.

She hardly notices how she wraps her own arms around Martin and nestles deeper into his chest. She thinks she hears him squeak.

"S-Sasha-!"

"Shhhhhhhhh."

He tries to let go of her but she's firmly latched on.

"Come on, this is- this is highly unprofessional of you!"

Sasha laughs quietly into his chest.

"Okay, Mr. Sims," she teasingly mutters.

Martin sputters but grudgingly rewraps his arms around her.

"Fine. You win."

She laughs louder into his chest.

Martin picks her up. He literally lifts her off the ground. Holy shit is he strong. And tall. She's not used to being short but the Original Sasha was average height.

"If you're not letting me go, then we are at least going to hold each other in a more comfortable spot. Which means not on the shitty cot."

Sasha whispers a 'yay' and presses her face into Martin’s collarbone. She closes her eyes and lets Martin do all the work.

"...Are you purring?" Martin asks.

Sasha pulls her head back and blinks at him.

"...Am I? I hadn't noticed."

"You’re a lot more tactile than I expected," Martin mutters.

Sasha ignores it and presses her face into his chest again.

It's been a long time since she left her Troop. She knows she’s the only surviving member of it. The world is not kind to young Strangers, especially if those young Strangers get cocky. 

She's lucky she's lived this long without garnering the ire of the other entities' servants. Guess she got too cocky. It's not a good thing to be the target of a Hunter, the Watcher, and The Distortion.

Troops generally stay close. Sasha remembers the press of bodies. The empty silence of the Troop existing. The way Breekon and Hope had cooed at them. The warmth and security of her not-siblings piling on top of her. 

She misses them, the safety they provided.

Being held by Martin, it’s like she never left them.

Maybe if she never Replaced the Original Sasha she wouldn’t be in this position. Hunted by a Hunter, under the gaze of the Watcher, and an interest to The Distortion. 

“Thanks for taking care of me, Martin,” she whispers to him.

Martin glances down at her before opening his bedroom door.

“Don’t worry about it! You’d do the same thing for me.”

Sasha nods and closes her eyes, letting herself fall asleep in Martin’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow so uhh consider this chapter the pitstop of comfort, chapter 8 and chapter 9 (ESPECIALLY chapter 9) are not nice to our notthem pov, chapter 10 is also seeming to start in 9s footsteps but ive just started writing it so that could change later
> 
> uhh yea martin pog! this is a filler chapter mainly (Aside from the table stuff at the beginning) and i dont like doing much filler chapters for things but i will tolerate them for the sake of giving our dear notsasha a rest by the campfire before the storm
> 
> theres more i wanted to put here but i finished this chapter in like january or early february and i cant remember siuhdish
> 
> anyways have some shitposty stuff i made while writing the chapter
> 
> Notsasha: im useless and weak  
> Martin: [shows up]  
> Notsasha: nevermind if i was useless and weak i would not be hugging martin right now
> 
> Martin: sasha stop cuddling me this is unprofessional   
> Notsasha, cuddling him harder: shut it mr sims  
> Martin, giving up: fine you win
> 
> Notsasha: love is stored in the martin
> 
> i love how micheal decided martin was the best person to drop notsasha with while shes recovering from what elias did, Like micheal looked at martin k blackwood and was like ahh yes this guy knows how to take care of people, And he was goddamn right!
> 
> (also the anatomy class was a Troop)
> 
> hope you enjoyed the chapter have a good day/night/morning/evening

**Author's Note:**

> this au was the result of me being really sleep-deprived and fucking around with my friends, we thought it'd be super hilarious if other avatars saw elias traumatizing his archivist and were like hey what the fuck man- so uh yea this is the result thanks for reading 
> 
> (please be aware that at the time of posting this [01/16/21] ive only just finished listening to the s2 finale and while i know most of the major plot points of s3-s4 and some from s5 i largely dont know of anything post s2, please be patient if i end up missing plot points or getting them wrong)


End file.
